


When the Sun Rises

by AbsinthexMind



Series: Oh brother where art thou [8]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Biting, Brother/Sister Incest, F/M, First Time, Forbidden Love, Half-Sibling Incest, Incest, Kissing, Loss of Virginity, Neck Kissing, Reader's direwolf pup, Reader-Insert, Separations, Sneaking Around, Vaginal Fingering, royal visit, sister reader, stark reader, talk of arranged marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-06 18:10:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11606121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbsinthexMind/pseuds/AbsinthexMind
Summary: Your time with Jon was coming to an end, you'd known the entire time that he had his heart set on going to Castle Black with Uncle Benjen. With the arrival of King Robert and his family you didn't have much of an opportunity to spend with him before he left. You'd find a way though to establish how much you love him before he leaves and when the sun rises, you'd keep the memory with you for the rest of your life.





	When the Sun Rises

Panting, you jab the blade of your sword into the ground. Your (h/c) hair sticking to your face due to sweat but still you smile. Robb’s ragged breathing is heard throughout the yard. Ser Rodrik watches from the side as well as other members of your family. 

“She’s a quick learner, I’ll give her that.” You hear your father chuckle. Robb huffs and straightens himself out. “Too quick if you ask me.” 

You hop over to your twin to give him a kiss on his sweaty, stubbly, cheek. “My dear Robb. Don’t be cross with me.” You give his other cheek a nice little slap making the small audience behind you chuckle. When you turn you notice the old master-of-arms nod, as if satisfied by what he saw. Ser Rodrik was incredibly reluctant to teach you how to fight with a sword. You proved to be a dedicated student, nearly surpassing both Jon and Robb. You still had a long way to go before you truly bested them. In the meantime, you’d take whatever victory you could get. 

Theon seems to be the only one still displeased. There’s a deep set frown on his face. “A lady shouldn’t be wielding steel.” 

“Should I take up the bow then? Surely you could give me a few pointers.” Wiping the sweat off with the back of your hand you shoot him a cheeky grin. 

Next to him is Jon who laughs at Theon’s disapproval. “I personally like a woman who can fight. One who can kiss you and kill you.” 

“You’re mad.” Theon grunts. 

“Alright.” Eddard Stark addresses the boys. “We should get going.” 

Sure you had learned how to fight with a sword but you would never be included with the boys. Your father was taking the men to deal with a deserter of the Black Brothers. Knowing too well the only thing to be done with a deserter. He didn’t want you to witness something so ugly yet he deemed Bran old enough to be a spectator. Bran put on a brave face but you knew he was nervous. 

Giving your little brother a kiss on the forehead perked him up a bit. He gives you a shaky smile. “You’ll be fine.” You go to Robb and Jon as they prepare to leave. “You two watch over him, okay?” 

“Okay mom.” Robb rolls his eyes. 

“Don’t worry (y/n). Bran is in good hands.” 

You resist the urge to grab Jon by the furs of his coat and kiss him. “Thank you Jon. At least I know one of my brothers is responsible.” 

As you watch them leave you pray to the old gods that they watch over Bran and give him the courage he needs. 

“Don’t worry about Bran (y/n). Your father knows what he’s doing.” Your lady mothers clasps your shoulders comfortingly. 

“He’s still a baby.” 

Catelyn laughs gently. “I thought the same when he took Robb for the first time. Children never stay children for long I’m afraid.” Her hand then goes to wipe the dirt off your cheek. “You need a bath little one.” 

That made you smile. “Am I still a little one?” 

“To me you will always be that cute little babe I held in my arms. No matter how old you grow.” Her lips still held a smile albeit it had turned sad. “I shall get the septa to prepare the tub.” Again you’re left alone on the training field watch your mother’s back retreat as she walked back to the castle.  
*  
  


You turn your back to watch your little direwolf pup follow with her short little legs. Storm had been at your heels, trying to keep up with you. Smiling you scoop up the direwolf pup in your arms to save her the effort. You were on your way to your usual meeting spot with Jon and the pup insisted on being with you. Since the day your brother Robb put her in your arms, Storm had been attached to you and refused to leave your side. On their way back from dealing with the deserter of the Brotherhood, Robb had stumbled upon the direwolf pups around their dead mother. What was queer was the number of pups. Six pups for six Stark children, plus a discolored one for the bastard. 

The love you had for the pup was instantaneous. A dark gray little ball of fur she was. While her siblings had white markings on them she was a solid dark gray that almost looked black like Rickon’s Shaggy Dog, with white fur on her paws. Her bright eyes burned orange and warm like fire. 

When you push open the door to the abandoned watch tower, Storm squirms in your arms at the sight of her albino brother. You set her down and watch her pounce playfully on Ghost. She lets out a yelp when he nips at her ear but quickly recovers and wrestles with him. White against gray. 

“She’s like you.” 

You face Jon. Inside the base of the tower was blinding dark, the only windows were on the upper level. Jon had been smart enough to bring a candle to illuminate it a bit. You go to sit next to him on the steps of the stairs, but before you even settle your butt down, Jon pulls you onto his lap and kisses you feverishly. His coarse facial hair scratching against your face when he does so. Not minding the scratch whatsoever, you pull at his black hair causing him to groan. Breaking away you lick at his lips before biting them lovingly. 

“And what is that supposed to mean?” You press your face against the fur on his cloak. Since it was big enough, Jon covers you with it along with himself. 

“She’s fierce.” The tip of Jon’s nose nuzzles against your’s. “Not afraid to fight.” He beckons you into another kiss and you all too willingly oblige. It was what you two mainly did when you stole away for alone time. You took the opportunity to do what you couldn’t do in public: kissing and showing affection to one another. 

The tower was quiet except for the sound of your kissing and Storm’s snarls and growls as she played. Ghost never made a sound, none whatsoever. His siblings didn’t really bother with him, content to play with each other. Storm and Robb’s own Grey Wind were the only ones to pay Ghost any mind. You were jealous that Robb had come up with such a cool name for his pup. Even Arya had named her pup something cool too. Of course she’d name her after a warrior queen: Nymeria. Storm, however, fit her name well not just for her color. Not even a week there at Winterfell she had caused a storm of chaos, something that neither of your siblings could still believe. Utter chaos from one so small. She’d shredded Maester Luwin’s robes to bits when he wouldn’t pay attention to her, wrecked the kitchens, and soiled in your parent’s room. Your father was furious with you and told you to start training her immediately. Since that day you had been training her. She was still willful, but obeyed you and behaved, well as much as a little direwolf pup could behave. Storm was a bundle of energy and even her own siblings grew tired from playing with her. Sansa wouldn’t let her Lady near Storm, claiming that your pup was a bad influence. Rickon liked watching Storm and Shaggy Dog play along with Bran’s unnamed pup. 

Jon was beginning to grow bold in his touching; his hand brushing against your breast had your heart beating wildly. 

You giggle and grab his hand, firmly setting it on your breast and making him squeeze it. He blushes and grins, not needing your hand to guide him anymore. You let him touch you, not knowing when the next time would be when you’d be alone together. Your father had informed everyone that the king himself was visiting Winterfell and would be arriving any day now. Ned didn’t seem too thrilled about the sudden news, knowing of the hasty preparations he’d have to make. 

“How am I going to make it through this visit without your lips?” Jon murmurs forlornly. 

“Good practice for when you go to Castle Black.” You'd meant it as a light hearted jest, but it seemed to make Jon frown. You didn't want to press on the matter, not now. It wouldn't definitely ruin the moment. “I hear Uncle Benjen will be coming down too. I know you. You're going to ask him to take you back with him to Castle Black. This. . .” You catch your breath. “This really might be the last time we have together.” 

His palm cups your face. “(y/n)” 

Shaking your head you place your hand atop of his. “I know. I’ve known this when we started. At least I know I’m the only girl you've ever kissed.” 

“The only girl I've ever loved.” He promptly corrects you. 

Smiling softly you nod and kiss his fingers. “Yes. That’s right.”  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The day finally came when King Robert’s large escort was spotted outside the walls of Winterfell. Your father had your family line up at the gates to greet the king. Jon being base-born was to be kept out of sight and not be part of your family line up. He had told you that he didn’t mind at all but you knew him better than that. It would forever be an open wound. 

You stood beside Robb, nervous and a little excited. This was the king of all the Seven Kingdoms. Sansa was on your other side, fidgeting with anticipation. 

“I hear Joffrey is so handsome!” She excitedly whispers to you. “I can’t wait to see him!” 

Arya scrunches up her nose as she often did with Sansa but for once didn’t say anything. You would commend her for that later. 

Feeling a bit naked without Storm by your side your hand brushes against Robb’s. He took the subtle hint without looking at you and grabbed your hand, weaving his gloved fingers with your’s. You had begged your father to let Storm be with you but he firmly insisted that she stay behind with the others. He didn’t want the young direwolves to scare Robert’s queen and children. You didn’t see what was so scary about them, they were still pups with gangly limbs and paws too big for them. The grew larger each passing day yet they were still not big enough to do any serious harm. 

The gates are opened to welcome the king’s entourage and bring in the large litter that held his wife and children. His eldest son rode with him as did the commander of the Kingsguard. Joffrey was nothing compared to his uncle Jaime. Both were golden haired and beautiful yet Jaime Lannister was a man full grown and wore his armor exquisitely. Beside the young prince was a terrifying man with a large burn mark on the side of his face. The very sight of him made you tremble slightly. You didn’t quite know what to expect the king to look like. Probably something like Jaime Lannister. Yet the man who led the enormous column was nothing like him. He was huge to say the least, but not height wise. More like his girth was huge. The large man jumped off his massive war horse and made for your father, bringing him into a bone-crushing embrace. 

“Ned! It’s good to see that frozen face of your’s. You haven’t changed at all.” the king was loud with a booming voice that rattled everyone. 

Courteously your father clasps him on the shoulder. “Your Grace. Winterfell is yours.” Even if he had been your father’s friend, he was king first and foremost and your father had to treat him as such. 

Following after the king, everyone else began to dismount. Queen Cersei Lannister came into view with her other two children. Just like her brother Jaime, she was just as beautiful but there was a coldness to her. Like she would sooner spit on you than kiss you. Nevertheless your father knelt down to kiss her ringed fingers as King Robert goes to hug your mother. Your father then goes to introduce you and your siblings. You noticed how the king stared at you with his deep blue eyes that must’ve been beautiful years ago. They were wide, as if he were seeing a ghost. 

“Lyanna has come back to us.” He whispers. 

“Your Grace” You curtsy politely, as you were taught by your Septa. You may have played with swords but you were still a lady. 

“That is my daughter (y/n).” Ned nods at you. “Her and Robb are twins.” 

“Surely you should’ve named her after Lyanna. By the gods she looks so much like her.” King Robert is still staring at you, completely forgetting the rest of your family and making you a bit uncomfortable. You disliked being compared to someone who was dead. It was always hard to live up to the expectations that a dead person had set. 

“Cat chose the names well.” Your father tries to go on and introduce the rest of your siblings. Reluctantly King Robert trails away from you to give the rest brief nods. The queen followed after with her greetings, her green eyes regarding you coldly. She objected when the king wanted to go down to your family crypts to visit the tomb of your aunt. Her husband would have none of it and left with your father. With her brother at her arm she swept away angrily as maids of your own house lead her and the others of her company to their rooms. The others would be forced to make camp outside the gates. 

“I feared he was going to kiss you.” Robb whispers in your ear with a smirk. 

You suppress a gag. “Don’t you dare say that. I thank the gods that mother did not name me Lyanna.” 

“Come along (y/n).” Septa Mordane had already rallied up Arya and Sansa. “You must change for the feast tonight.” 

Inwardly groaning you follow her. Now was not the time to be arguing. You had to set a good example if not for Sansa then at least for Arya. Sansa was already the perfect lady. You wouldn’t complain about how you had just changed before they had arrived. You would be a good lady at least for the time being. When they left you could go back to playing with Storm and practicing your swordplay. 

Already you found yourself missing Jon. You knew that he would be forced to keep away for most of the royal visit. He wouldn’t be allowed to sit with your family for meals nor could he just easily walk up to you and start talking to you. 

The Great Hall was filled with loud, jubilant voices and even more tantalizing smells that had your stomach growling. 

“He’s so handsome.” Sansa sighed, looking over at Joffrey. You knew she had bit a bit envious of you when you were told to walk in holding onto Joffrey’s arm as you were the eldest out of Lord Stark’s girls. Robb had walked with the Princess Myrcella on his arm and Arya had been forced to enter alongside Tommen, the youngest of King Robert’s offspring. You had tried telling your father that Sansa was better suited but he insisted on keeping tradition. The pouty lipped prince was almost as tall as you but not quite. He was younger after all. You had preferred to walk in next to Robb but there was no worming your way out. 

“Don’t gawk Sansa.” 

She immediately straightens up, obeying her elder sister. You took a sip of your watered down wine that your father had allowed all of his children to have for this special occasion. From your spot high on the raised platform, you crane your neck to try and catch a glimpse of Jon down below on the benches. You would rather be down there in the merriment of it all instead of up high while listening to King Robert’s bawdy voice as he laughed loudly. You even try looking for Ghost, thinking it might be easier. But both of them were lost among the many heads that bobbed on the benches. 

“You mustn’t fidget (y/n).” Robb reminds you in a quiet whisper. 

“Our brother has disappeared. I can’t even see him.” Mumbling with disappointment you slump back in your chair. “And I grow bored.” 

“Surely King Robert’s stories are enough to entertain you?” He smiles knowing all too well that they did not. 

You shake your head. “I would rather listen to Uncle Benjen’s stories among everyone else down there.” 

“And be with Jon.” 

Something about the way he said it had your heart picking up speed. Surely. . . He couldn’t know about the affair you and Jon were involved in. The both of you had been incredibly careful to the point of paranoid that someone would find out. Yet Robb wasn’t just anyone. He was literally the other half of you. The two of you were brought into this world together but mere seconds apart. Robb knew things that no one else did about you. Sometimes it was beyond weird how the two of you knew how the other was feeling. Attempting to cover it up, you take a nibble of roasted meat that melted in your mouth. “He should be up here. He’s our brother.” 

“Yes, but only half our brother.” Robb was quite enjoying his wine and nearly drained his cup. “Our lady mother thought it would insult the queen if a bastard were to share the same table as her.” 

You frown. “Our mother just doesn’t like him.” 

“That too.” 

You’d always understood the reason why Catelyn Stark did not like Jon Snow. He was the physical evidence of the indiscretion that Ned had had during the war. But it wasn’t Jon’s fault. He was innocent in all of this. 

You stabbed your fork into another piece of meat. 

“Be gentle sweet sister, it’s already dead.” Your twin chuckles. “I’m sure you’ll be able to steal a moment with Jon after you head to bed.” 

Blanching you try not to stare at him. “What are you. . .” 

His lips brush against the shell of your ear so no one else could eavesdrop. “I’m your twin (y/n), I know all of your secrets as you know all of mine. I’m wounded that you think this would go past me. Maybe everyone else, but not me. Although I cannot condone this relationship it’s better than if you were with Theon. I don’t think there is anyone else I would trust you to other than Jon. Yet you know as well as I that this relationship won’t prosper.” 

Sullenly you nod. “I know.” 

Robb’s eyes are gentle as he kisses your cheek. “Don’t look so sad (y/n). Just enjoy it while you can is all I’m saying.” With his index finger he points out into the crowd below. “See, he’s right there. Talking to Uncle Benjen. Perhaps about joining the Black Brothers.” 

You have to squint. “How did you find him so easily?” 

Only a smirk as his reply, you roll your eyes and continue with your meal.

  


A few days pass as the royal visit continues. Four days to be exact. You’ve counted and kept track. Four days without being alone with Jon. Four days being banned from the training field. You didn’t like it but with the king himself there you didn’t want to cause any grief for your father. He already had enough on his plate as it was, he didn’t need another unruly daughter. Hand of the king, that was the title your father was given by King Robert Baratheon himself. He was to set off to King’s Landing soon enough. The king’s Hand must be by the king’s side, not advising from Winterfell. You didn’t like it considering that he was to take you and your other sisters. King’s Landing was no place for a direwolf. Plus you weren’t meant to be parted from Robb. You were twins, twins were meant to stay together. You’d told Robb the very same thing the night your father brought the news. 

“It won’t be forever.” He tried to convince both himself and you. Grey Wind cocked his head at the sound of Robb’s strained voice. Storm’s wet nose nudges against your hand. Gazing at Robb you notice the red rim of his eyes as he struggles to contain his own grief. Neither of you had spent more than a day apart. 

“It’ll feel like forever.” 

Despite the sorrow you were to soon face you took it upon yourself to try and coax Arya into behaving. You even attended lessons with Septa Mordane as the little Princess Myrcella would be present. You didn’t want your little sister to misbehave. When the septa would go to reprimand Arya about her inadequate needlework you would quietly tell her to leave Arya be and go easy on her for now. You were as bored as she was but you held yourself well just like a lady should. You only half listened and didn’t put much effort into your stitching. Uncle Benjen would be returning to Castle Black soon. That meant Jon would be going with him. 

You sat on your bed, Storm curled up among your pelts and blankets. She had grown quite a bit in the past four days and continued to do so. 

A knock at your door has Storm perking her head up, her ears twitching and a low growl rumbling in her throat. 

“Who is it?” 

“Your favorite uncle.” 

You smile and tell him to come in. He spoke the truth when he said he was your favorite uncle. Then again you didn’t really know your other uncle, your mom’s brother Edmure. The last time he probably saw you and Robb was when you were little babies. 

Even outside of Castle Black, your uncle still donned their color. He smiles over at you. “We haven’t had much time to talk, have we?” 

You shake your head. “A shame it is. Then again I’ve been trying to play the role of Eddard Stark’s well behaved, eldest daughter. Showing them my courtesies and whatnot. Come closer, Uncle. She won’t bite. Maybe nip a little bit but she does it playfully.” 

He goes to sit next to you, all the while keeping an eye on Storm. “Did you know direwolves still roam beyond the wall?” 

“I think Old Nan told us as much. She’s told us about all the creatures that lurk around beyond the wall.” You scratch behind Storm’s ears. “Uncle. . . Do you plan on taking Jon with you when you leave?” 

Benjen is quiet in contemplation. “He’s asked me as much. He’s determined to join the Black Brothers, but to be honest he is still far too young. He has his whole life ahead of him.” 

“He does. But not much of a life. As much as I love him he is a bastard. He will own no land of his own. . . People will always see him as Lord Stark’s bastard. I don’t want him to leave, but in the end I know it’s for the best.” Whispering sadly you sigh. 

“You speak the truth for someone so young.” Benjen nods somberly. “Times like this you really do remind me of Lyanna.” 

You groan. 

“What?” 

“I know she was well loved but I really don’t like being compared to someone dead. Makes it impossible to be my own person.” 

He chuckles and apologizes. “Yes. You are your own person, that much is clear. Forgive me.” 

“Nothing to forgive uncle. Now tell me of your many adventures on top of the Wall. I wish to know what my brother will be encountering.” 

The more your uncle spoke of Castle Black the more concerned you grew for your brother Jon. It was what Jon wanted though. He’d grow tougher at Castle Black and stronger surely. 

Your heart ached at the thought of the family that was breaking apart. You surely wouldn’t be seeing Robb for years and Jon you were even less likely to see again. 

After your Uncle Benjen left you mulled on your bed. Storm seemed to read your thoughts as she leaps on your bed to kiss your cheek. She was leaving her brothers too. 

“We’re in this together, yeah?” You press your forehead to her’s and she lets out a quiet whimper. “Are you going to miss your brothers as much as I will miss mine?” A whole was beginning to open in your heart.  
  
  


You couldn’t breathe as you rushed to your little brother’s room. Arya had just come running to you, speaking so fast that you couldn’t understand her at first, Nymeria trailing behind her as she fearfully grabs your arm. When you had finally calmed her down enough to understand her, you didn’t quite believe what she had told you. Bran had fallen off a watch tower. He was seriously injured and no one believed he would survive. Bran _never_ fell. You’d gone with him so many times to climb and more often than not you were the one to slip or fall. You had once twisted your ankle very badly by falling a few feet down. Never Bran though. 

There was already quite a few people in his room which made it incredibly packed. Both of your parents stood by his bed, your mother crying into her hands as Maester Luwin examines him. Even King Robert was there, consoling your father. Bran looked so little in his bed covered with pelts and furs. When Robb saw you he grabbed your arm. 

“Bran never falls.” You immediately tell Robb. 

He chews on his bottom lip. “Looks like his luck ran out.” 

You refused to believe it but let him escort you next to your mother. You kneel down next to the chair she was sitting in and place your hand on her shoulder. She looks up at you, her blue eyes even more watery due to tears and reddened around the whites of her eyes. Cat’s lips quiver as she returns her face to her hands. You catch the lump in your own throat as your eyes burned. You and your father were expected to leave soon. But now? Surely he wouldn’t take you and your sisters away after such a tragedy. Your mother needed her family here as did Bran. 

“We can’t leave.” You insisted after you and your father leave Bran’s room. “Not now.” 

Ned Stark shakes his head solemnly. “We have to (y/n). I’m the Hand of the King now. It pains me to do so, but we must go.” 

“Wh-What if Bran. . .” You didn’t want to think about if he were to die while you were off in King’s Landing. The tears escaped you before you could stop them and you found yourself against your lord father’s chest as he tries to soothe you. 

“I know.” His own voice is gruff. “I know. I have the same fears. But Bran will have your mother and Robb and the others to take care of him. If. . . If the unfortunate were to happen. . . Well. . . we can only hope that King Robert will let us leave for a bit.” 

“Why must I go? I understand why Sansa and Arya have to go, but why me? I should stay here and support mother.” 

He sighs, his hand resting on your back. “Because I need you too.” 

Surprised you gaze up at your father’s rough face in disbelief. “Why would you need me?” 

“It’s not an easy thing being the king’s Hand (y/n). Undoubtedly I will already have many enemies there for just being his Hand. I need to know I at least of a few allies behind me, even if they are my daughters. Especially my daughters. I know that you and Arya will be able to put me at ease with your smiles. Permit me to be selfish. I know I’m causing you much pain, tearing you away from Robb and now from Bran and your mother. No doubt you would be safer here too. King’s Landing is dangerous and there’s even more dangerous people in the Red Keep.” His hand goes to caress your cheek. Eddard Stark appeared to be torn as he gazes at you. “If. . . If you really wish to, you may stay. I won’t make you go. I understand your reasons for wanting to stay.” 

How could you say no after your strong father had just revealed to you his fears. He opened himself up to you. As much as it hurt to leave Robb and Bran, you knew your father didn’t have the support in King’s Landing that Bran did in Winterfell. 

Holding his bristled face with your hands you shake your head. “No. I will go with you father. Bran. . . Bran will be okay. . . He has all of Winterfell by his side.” 

You just hoped that Bran really would be alright.  
  
  
*  
  
  


The day arrived all too soon. You would be leaving for King’s Landing come the morning and Jon would be heading for the Wall. Everything was packed, your room looking lonely. You had to get out of your room lest you started to cry. So you head to the place where you and Jon normally stole away together. Storm chose to wait outside this time around. You weren’t expecting to find Jon there as well. He stands abruptly and stares at you. 

“(y/n).” 

“Jon. . .” You murmur and hesitantly hover toward him. His gloved hand is already on your arm to bring you closer. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here.” 

He smiles gently. “Me too. You’ll. . . You’ll take care of yourself in King’s Landing, right?” 

“I won’t go kissing any strange boys.” You promise which prompts a sad laugh from him. “Please be careful at Castle Black.” 

“I’ll try.” 

The two of you stand there, feet away from each other and silent as you both stare at the ground; not knowing what to say. You didn’t know why it felt so awkward between the two of you all of a sudden. 

“(y/n). . .” 

You speak too quickly, all too happy that he’s the one to talk first. “Yes?” 

Jon takes a tentative step forward, then another until he’s inches in front of you. He pulls off one of his gloves and his naked fingers go to brush against your hair. “You know that I love you, right?” 

“Of course.” 

“That I love you more than anyone. Than any woman.” 

“Jon, why are you saying this?” 

“I. . . I just wanted to know that you knew the love I have for you is real. When I take my vows, I’ll be happy to know that you are the only woman I have ever loved. I will keep the memory with me that I at least experienced love. Even if it was inconvenient. I wouldn’t take back a single moment of it.” 

Your heart thumped in your chest as you take his hand to kiss his palm. Even in the afternoon cold of Winterfell, Jon was always warm. “I wouldn’t change anything either.” 

He leans down to capture your lips. You couldn’t believe that it would be the last time you kissed him. You held onto him, refusing to let him go. The kisses grew longer and longer until you found your back pressed against the wall. You gasp at the contact, snapping Jon out of the heat of the moment. 

“S-Sorry. I should go.” Jon murmurs, covering his mouth. 

You couldn’t let him go. “Jon. . . I want you.” 

His cheeks flush pink, that much you could tell even in the dark. “(y/n)-” 

“I love you Jon. I want you to take me. . . I don’t want anyone else but you.” You whisper, your fingers fiddling with his tunic. 

Sharply he pulls away. “I love you too, but I can’t.” 

“You haven’t taken your vows yet.” 

“I know. It’s not that.” There’s a hint of fear in his tone. “(y/n). . . What if you get pregnant? Not only would there be another bastard Snow in the world, but even worse. . . It would be born out of incest. . .” 

His fears were well grounded. You had had the same fears when you first started your illicit relationship with Jon. So you started to read even more. Specifically, you started to read Maester Luwin’s books of the body and medicine. You read until your eyes grew strained and your back was sore. Eventually in one of the volumes, an ancient volume that looked to have not been touched for years you discovered moon tea. Normally such remedies were more suited for a woods witch but you wrote out the instructions nevertheless. 

“The moon tea should rid us of those fears.” You attempt to coax him back to you. 

“Moon tea?” 

You nod. “It’ll guarantee that my belly stays flat. Or. . . Do you not want me?” 

He grabs you, a bit roughly at first, and pulls you flush against him. “Of course I do.” Jon kissed you again, letting his tongue slip in easily. Slowly the two of you descended to the ground. You lay underneath him and watched as he struggled to take his clothes off. You giggle, making him even more flustered then go to assist him. Helping each other out, both of you were soon as naked as your name day. Jon kissed your lips before trailing down to kiss your belly button then your thighs. Each touch was slow and calculated, trying to offer you the most pleasure. Neither of you had done such a thing before. You yourself experimented to see which one of your touches coaxed the most noise out of Jon. Light as a feather you ghost your fingers over his shaft that had slowly started to rise. He choked back a moan; you tilt your head, smiling at him as he closed his eyes. Your eyes cast down to watch as your fingers delicately wrap around his soft member. You had never seen one before except for Robb’s, but that was years ago when you were children and still bathed together. Moving your wrapped hand up and down elicits more moans from Jon, you kiss his jaw as you move your hand a little faster. He comes undone quite quickly, his hot seed spilling all over your hand. 

Jon curses quietly and tries to apologize. 

You shake your head and move your lips against his. His manhood comes to life once again. “See? No harm done, Jon. Now am I going to be the only one doing all the work, or are you going to touch me?” 

The corners of his lips curl in a smile against the kiss. Jon presses you against the ground, his hand sliding from your thigh to cup your breast and apply gentle pressure. The pads of his fingers tweaking your nipple makes you mewl. You feel something unbearably hot prod at your thigh; it makes your slit grow wet with need. You move your hips upward and grin at another moan from Jon. 

“That’s not fair.” He murmurs against your cheek, his unshaven face scratching at you. Your voice catches in your throat when Jon’s teeth bite down on your breast, one of his fingers sinking inside of you easily thanks to your wet arousal. You arch your back, begging for more which he complied. Another finger is gradually added as he curls his fingers inside of you making your breathing grow high pitch. Jon pumps them in and out, stretching your walls out deliciously. Your teeth bite down on your lip harshly to prevent a string of loud moans from escaping. 

Jon retrieves his fingers from you, leaving you feeling empty and you’re about to complain until his hands are at your thighs and pushing your legs apart. Blushing, you watch as he trains the head of his cock to rub against your wet lower lips. You watch intently, heart racing furiously in your chest. He’s teasing you, sliding the length of his cock between your folds about not penetrating. Jon’s husky voice lets out a moan at the feeling of your warmth and he nearly shudders once he slowly begins to plunge his cock into you. You let out a shaky breath that hitches in your throat. He hadn’t even been fully in when he pulls out only to slam all of his length into you. You whimper and a quiet cry vibrates in your throat. You cling to him as his cock pierced into you; it stung terribly but as Jon began a slow pace you grew accustomed and it soon bled into pleasure.

You lose yourself entirely and let euphoria swallow you up; relishing in the feeling of Jon inside of you as he bucks in and out of you. The loud smacking of skin on skin was enough to send you over the edge, making you tighten around him. Mere seconds later he slouches over you and releases his seed inside of you. The both of you are panting, clinging to one another in a sweaty mess. You felt embarrassed to admit that you liked the feeling of Jon’s seed between your legs, mixed with your own wetness. 

Tired, he presses a long kiss on your forehead. “S-Sorry I didn’t last too long that time either.” 

“Neither did I. It was our first time anyway.” _'And probably our last.'_ You didn’t voice that last thought. Instead you lay quietly in Jon’s arms. When the sun rises everything would end. Your life with Jon would be just a memory. 

“I love you (y/n). 

A small tear trickles down your cheek. “I love you too Jon.”


End file.
